


Irrevocable

by boywonder



Category: Tales of Symphonia
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-23
Updated: 2013-11-23
Packaged: 2018-01-02 11:20:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1056153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/boywonder/pseuds/boywonder
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>“Your distrust of me is wise,” the man said, looking down at Mithos with an unreadable expression. “But I have no intention of taking your money. I won't collect full payment until you're satisfied. Does that allay your fears?”</i>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>  <i>“Not entirely,” Mithos said, raising his chin defiantly.</i></p><p> </p><p>  <i>The mercenary's expression did not change. Mithos looked away first.</i></p><p> </p><p>  <i>“I guess we can try it, see if it's worth the cost,” he said.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Irrevocable

**Author's Note:**

  * For [xannish](https://archiveofourown.org/users/xannish/gifts).



It was Martel who hired a mercenary. Mithos was suspicious at first, not wanting the company of a human. Despite the accusations from humans and elves alike in their hometown, Martel didn't have her brother's suspicions. The man she hired came with shining recommendations from everyone she'd managed to get to actually talk to her.

“You said you wanted to learn to fight,” Martel told him, softly, outside the inn where she had met the mercenary.

“I _do_ ,” he replied, arms crossed sullenly over his chest. “But he's a _human_.”

“Not all humans are the same. He doesn't care whether we're humans or elves or neither. He wouldn't be a very good mercenary if he cared about something like that, after all. And he's willing to teach you. Where else will we find someone on such short notice?”

“If he's a mercenary, he only wants money! How do you know he'll actually stay and help us?” Mithos asked.

“I have more honor than that,” a voice said from behind them.

Mithos whirled around to face the man they'd been talking about, surprised he hadn't even heard him walk up.

“Your distrust of me is wise,” the man said, looking down at Mithos with an unreadable expression. “But I have no intention of taking your money. I won't collect full payment until you're satisfied. Does that allay your fears?”

“Not entirely,” Mithos said, raising his chin defiantly.

The mercenary's expression did not change. Mithos looked away first.

“I guess we can try it, see if it's worth the cost,” he said, glancing back at Martel.

She smiled at the both of them. “I have a feeling it will be.”

“I am Kratos,” the mercenary said, finally extending a hand to Mithos.

Mithos looked at it as if it were a snake about to bite him, but he finally accepted. “Mithos.”

Kratos's hand closed around Mithos's tightly. “Your hands are soft,” he commented. “You have a lot to learn.”

Mithos stared up at him with wide eyes and pulled his hand back. He almost didn't expect Kratos to let it go, but he did. “I will see you at sunrise,” the man said, turning on his heel to return to the inn. Mithos stared after him.

“I guess we'll have an early night?” Martel said, moving closer and putting a hand on her brother's shoulder. Mithos watched Kratos disappear into the building, and did not answer either of them.

* * *

The next morning, Kratos handed Mithos a sword and took him into the woods with barely two words between them. Martel followed, more out of the desire to watch than of any fear of being alone. It was a rather embarrassing affair, but Mithos clenched his jaw. He didn't want to complain in front of her. But he also didn't want her to see him as weak.

When Kratos finally gave him a break, he asked her to return to the inn.

She refused.

“I want to watch you grow! Maybe I can learn something myself, from watching.”

“You shouldn't have to fight.”

“I don't want to fight. But I cannot be helpless, either.”

He frowned at her, and was about to say something else when Kratos approached.

“There may be something I can teach you, though it would not be swordplay,” he said. Mithos looked at him warily, but decided not to argue.

Kratos had Mithos return to his training, though he was tired. Mithos went without protest.

The days passed much like that. Martel did not always watch, but she often did. She saw improvement in her brother, and commented on it. He glowed under her praise – a fact that Kratos noticed.

“Her presence makes you stronger,” the mercenary commented one night, as they ate. Martel was asleep upstairs, having not felt well earlier in the day.

“I want to protect her,” Mithos said. “She's the reason I'm doing any of this. I couldn't help it when we got chased out of our home. I have to be strong enough to keep her safe.”

“She also makes you weaker,” Kratos said, setting his bowl down and levelling his gaze at the boy.

Mithos frowned at him. “What are you talking about? You just said she makes me stronger!”

Kratos nodded. “She does. She makes you work harder and push yourself further, because of your desire to protect her. But you let your emotions for her rule you. You make rash decisions based on that, instead of logical ones.”

“No I don't!” Mithos protested.

“Of course you do. It's a fault of the young and untrained. But in a battle, it could mean a grievous error.”

“You're telling me I shouldn't care about my _sister_?” Mithos asked, demanding an answer with his tone.

Kratos's mouth twitched as if he might smile. “That is exactly what I'm talking about. That reaction, that _rashness_. I'm saying you should rein in your emotions – not that you should forget about them.”

Before Mithos could offer further argument, Kratos stood up. “I will see you in the morning,” he said.

* * *

Despite Kratos's warning, Mithos did nothing to rein in his emotions. Kratos taught him swordplay and spellcasting. His own innate abilities for magic outweighed Kratos's, but he could not match Kratos with a sword, try as he might. Martel learned some magic, too, though hers was always much gentler than Mithos's.

They didn't remain in one place for long. Half-elves were rarely welcome. They could stay in areas with only humans, as humans couldn't really tell the difference between elves and half-elves. But _elves_ certainly could, so they had to avoid them. So they travelled. Sometimes Kratos would do small jobs for other people to earn more money, or the two siblings performed odd jobs.

Sometimes they stayed outside when it was nice, finding places along the road. Kratos and Mithos would take turns watching through the night for monsters or bandits. They went mostly undisturbed, though.  
They found, almost by accident, that Mithos had the ability to talk to summon spirits. Not everyone could, of course, and the spirits usually hid themselves.

One night during Mithos's watch, he heard a noise off in the bushes, like an animal crying. He hesitated, not wanting to leave the campsite. The crying bothered him, however, and he had to follow it.

He found a small animal near the entrance to a tunnel that led underground. It was small and white, and looked almost like a dog, though he wasn't sure that's what it was. Its leg had gotten caught in some roots and it couldn't seem to get free.

Mithos felt bad for the animal. It didn't seem like a monster to him, and when he approached it, it shied away rather than attack. He found himself wishing Martel were there, as her presence was undoubtedly more soothing than his own. But he didn't want to desert the animal, or leave it for some monster to come and make a meal of it.

It took work to get the frightened creature to let him near it, and it took even more to get its leg free. By the time he'd managed that, the creature had calmed down and even snuggled up against him. He set it down, then, expecting it to run off into the forest. It didn't, however. Instead, it headed back to the tunnel entrance – avoiding the roots this time – and turned to look back at him.

“You want me to follow you?” the boy asked. The animal did not answer, of course, but it stared at him with large, luminous eyes. He stared back for a minute, thinking he should go back, thinking Kratos wouldn't like it. In the end, however, curiosity won over reason and he followed the animal into the tunnel.

The tunnel was dark enough that Mithos needed to cast a spell to create enough light to see by. Even so, the darkness was pervasive, and he could barely see to follow the small animal through the tunnel. The tunnel led to a large open space. To Mithos, it seemed nearly impossible that such a space could exist here underground. He wondered if he were dreaming – and wondered if falling asleep on watch was better or worse than running off like this.

At first, Mithos found nothing of interest in the clearing – only roots and dirt. He reached one earthen wall and touched it. It was surprisingly warm, as if the very earth around the place were alive. Still, other than that there was nothing remarkable. He turned around at last, to go. To his surprise, a large creature was hovering in the air behind him. He was sure there had been nothing, and he was on edge immediately.

“This little guy said you freed him!” the monster – was it a monster? – said, cheerfully, waving one small arm at Mithos.

Mithos's hand rested on his sword, but he did not draw it.

“He was in pain. I don't like seeing anything in pain.”

The monster made a face that Mithos would have sworn was a grin, and spun around in the air. “That's good! I don't, either. It's been awhile since I've had any visitors down here.”

“What...are you?” Mithos asked. He realized it might be a rude question, but he asked it anyway.

“I'm Gnome! I'm the earth spirit!”

Mithos dropped his hand away from his sword at that. There were legends of spirits that made pacts with humans or elves, joining their power for a common cause. Was this strange thing really one of them?

“You're a summon spirit?” he asked.

Gnome sort of bounced up and down in the air. “I guess that's what they're calling us now, sure.”

Mithos straightened up. “Will you make a pact with me?”

Gnome seemed to glow in the dimly lit space at that. “What do you want that for?”

“To make a world where no one has to get hurt anymore,” Mithos responded. “My sister and I were chased out of our hometown because we're half-elves. I don't want other people to end up like that.”

Gnome was quiet for a moment. “I think that's a good plan. Okay! I'll make a pact with you. But you have to tell me your name.”

“Mithos,” the boy replied.

Gnome glowed so brightly then that Mithos had to cover his eyes with one arm. When he opened them again, Gnome was gone, leaving behind only the small dog-like creature. Mithos _felt_ differently, though. If he called, would Gnome really answer? He figured time would tell.

“Come on, then,” he told the animal. It looked at him almost as if it understood, and when he left, it followed.

Kratos was awake when Mithos returned to the campsite, and he was obviously not happy.

“Where the hell were you?” he demanded. He didn't raise his voice, not wanting to wake Martel, but there was heat in his words.

“I heard something crying,” Mithos said. He looked down, sure that Kratos's anger would have scared the little dog thing away, but it was still there, regarding Kratos with wide eyes.

Kratos followed Mithos's gaze down to the animal and back up. His frown deepened. “You deserted the campsite without waking me to save a lost puppy?”

“He was trapped! I couldn't let him stay there. And he led me somewhere.”

“He _led you_ somewhere.”

“Have you heard of summon spirits?” Mithos asked, then.

Kratos looked a little puzzled. “A legend? Yes, I've heard of them. What does that have to do with-”

“I found one. I made a pact with him.”

Kratos crossed his arms. “It isn't like you to make up stories.”

“It's not a story. Why would I make something like that up?”

Kratos's gaze bored into the boy.

“Do not run off like that again. I cannot protect you if you are not here to protect,” he said at length, deciding to ignore the summon spirit issue for the time being. “I would have woken if something had come, but what could I do for you if you were lost in the woods?”

“You were _worried_ about me?” Mithos asked, incredulous.

“Don't sound so shocked. I am aware of your ability level and of the dangers of the woods at night.”

Mithos's expression turned to stone. “And for a minute I thought you actually cared about me,” he said. “I should have known better than to expect you to have _emotions_.”

Kratos clenched his jaw, though he did not speak. Mithos went to bed, but the small white animal did not go with him. Instead, it came and sat by the mercenary's feet as he kept watch. In the weeks that followed, it was Kratos whom the creature followed around, much to Martel's amusement and Mithos's annoyance.

* * *

They met Yuan Ka Fai at an inn when they stopped to rest. Noishe – as Kratos had named the animal that refused to stop following him – found him, and walked right up to him as if he'd known him for years. Kratos was busy paying for the room for the evening and Mithos had gone with him, so it was Martel who followed and apologized.

Yuan was good-natured about it, and before long Martel had struck up an actual conversation with him.

The other two returned after awhile to find her laughing and talking with Yuan.

“You're travelling with a human?” he asked, eyes narrowing at Kratos.

Mithos returned his dirty look, but Kratos remained as expressionless as ever. Martel looked surprised.

“My brother is his apprentice,” she answered. “We've been travelling together for near on a year now.”

“Why would you want to travel with half-elves?” Yuan asked Kratos directly.

“I will travel with anyone who pays me. Humans, elves, half-elves, it makes no difference to me,” he responded, never shying away from Yuan's accusing stare.

“Who are you to judge us?” Mithos asked. “You're a half-elf too.”

Yuan looked at the boy as if seeing him for the first time. “...How can you tell that?” he asked, slowly. “Most see me only as an elf. Usually only actual elves can tell.”

Mithos shrugged. “You feel like a half-elf. Anyway, if you were an elf you'd never have talked to us.”

Yuan chuckled slightly at that. “Ah, there is that, isn't there? Well, if your human companion really doesn't mind the company of half-elves, perhaps he won't mind one more for a meal.”

Kratos was quiet for a moment. “I don't care either way,” he said at last, and it was settled.

Yuan was a gracious companion, despite his initial mistrust of Kratos. He seemed to fit in as one of them, and Martel certainly seemed to like him. Later, none of them could say why or how they started travelling together, but days passed and Yuan was still there. Days became weeks, and Martel spent as much time with Yuan as she did with Mithos.

Mithos was jealous initially.

“She cannot be sewn into your pocket her whole life,” Kratos told him. “Let her be.”

It took a lot to actually listen to those words, but when Mithos saw how happy Yuan made his sister, he swallowed his jealousy and let them be.

* * *

Martel and Yuan spent a few days alone shortly after Mithos found the summon spirit Undine. Yuan was looking for a certain weapon, and refused Kratos's offer for help. Martel's offer for companionship was apparently another matter.

Mithos found it hard to sleep, not knowing where Martel was or how she fared.

Kratos found him late one night sitting by a river, tossing stones into it like a sullen child who had been scolded by a parent.

The mercenary joined the boy on the river's bank.

“Still jealous of Yuan?” he asked. “You oughtn't be. She would never replace you in her heart.”

Mithos threw another rock and said nothing.

“I cannot bear the thought of living life without her.”

“I do not imagine she would go far away from you for long. But she is a young woman now, and young women have dreams.”

Mithos snorted. “You mean those fairy story romance things? I thought she was more practical than that, but then she met Yuan.”

“He would not mistreat her.”

“I'd kill him if he did,” Mithos said.

Kratos reached out and put a hand on Mithos's shoulder and said nothing for a long time.

“Kratos,” Mithos said, breaking the silence at last.

“Mm?”

“Are you going to leave me as well?”

“I'm not sure what you mean.”

“You said, when we met, that you would not collect payment until I was satisfied with what you had taught me.”

“I did.”

“What if I am never satisfied?” the boy asked, finally turning to look at Kratos.

Kratos, for once, looked genuinely surprised. Mithos continued speaking before Kratos had the chance to reply. “What if I decide to withhold the other half indefinitely?”  “And break a contract your sister made?” Kratos asked. Mithos's shoulders tensed and he jerked his gaze back to the water; Kratos had pushed that button on purpose. Mithos did not know how to answer that.

“If you are worried I will leave when you pay me, don't be. If you ask me to stay, I will do so.”

Mithos knitted his brows together. It took him a long moment before he could make himself look at the mercenary again.

“Why would you bother when I no longer owe you anything?”

“Are you so focused on Martel that her affections are the only ones you care about?” Kratos asked, pretending to sound offended.

“You are the one who says that caring about someone is weakness.”

“No. Being ruled by your emotions makes you weak. Never forget that your love for Martel also makes you strong. Having something to protect always does. It is...a double-edged sword.”

“You aren't planning to leave, then?”

“No,” Kratos said, though he seemed to be surprised at himself for admitting it.

“Then I am satisfied with what you have taught me,” Mithos said, turning back to the river.

Behind them, Noishe yawned and laid his head on his paws.

* * *

Yuan asked Martel to marry him only a couple months later. He talked to Kratos about it before he talked to Mithos, knowing full well that the boy wouldn't be on board with it. Kratos, however, refused to get in the middle.

Martel agreed to the engagement. It was only then that anyone told Mithos of it.

He was angry, and maybe even rightfully so. However, he'd never handled emotions well, and he stormed out of the inn and off on his own. Martel went to follow him, but Kratos held her back.

"He is afraid of losing you," the mercenary said. "Give him time."

When a few hours passed and Mithos had not returned, Kratos went to find him and bring him home. He did ultimately agree to the arrangement, though he was unhappy about it at first. However, nothing really changed between any of them, and he calmed. It was just a ring on a finger for the time being - a promise waiting to be fulfilled. Even Mithos could agree to that.

Martel attested that they were _all_ family, no matter what happened, and it made Mithos happy to hear her say it.

They were working to stop the war that still raged between Sylvarant and Tethe'alla. Though they had been right about the fall of Tethe'alla's capitol, who bothered to remember that now? The war went on around them. Their time spent in towns grew less and less as mistrust of half-elves grew more and more. Even Yuan stopped trying to pass himself off as anything else. Only Kratos was immune to discrimination, but even his status as a well-known mercenary didn't matter much when he was accompanied by three half-elves.

* * *

Martel's death shocked all of them.

She told Mithos as she lay dying that she wanted a world without suffering, where all races could live together.

Mithos took her death harder than even Yuan did. He had the sword given to him by the summon spirit Origin, and he sealed his sister's soul inside her cruxis crystal. After that, he disappeared. Even Noishe could not seem to find him. After two weeks passed, Kratos set out to look for him in earnest.

Yuan warned Kratos that there was something dark in Mithos, and that they both ought to tread carefully from then on.

* * *

In the end, Mithos found Kratos - and not the other way around.

Mithos appeared in the room Kratos was renting at an inn. Noishe stood up and growled until he realized who it was. Still, he seemed uneasy and would not go too close to Mithos.

Mithos ignored him.

"Kratos."

"Where the hell have you been? I was worried about you."

"I need you to do something," Mithos said, ignoring the question too.

Kratos looked at him for a long moment. There was something about this he was sure he didn't like, but at length he asked, "What is it?"

Mithos held out his hand. There were several tiny stones in it, shining with a strange light. "I want you to ingest these stones."

Kratos's brow furrowed. "And why would I do that?"

"You're _human_ ," Mithos said, distaste dripping from his voice as he spat out the word. "I will outlive you. I can't…I can't watch you die as well."

"Mithos-"

"Aionis will grant you longevity. I could not bear to watch you grow old and die, any more than I could bear to watch someone kill you."

"No one is going to kill me. I wouldn't let that happen."

"I have to be _sure_ ," the boy said, and he raised his gaze to meet Kratos's eyes. Kratos realized that Mithos's anger was hiding something else - fear. He had watched his sister die, and none of them had been able to do anything to stop it from happening. It had been too late. She had called them all family, and Mithos had lost enough family.

Knowing he would regret it, he reached for the stones.

"You must never leave me," Mithos said. It sounded almost like an order.

"I would not," Kratos said.

"There is something I need to do. Will you wait for me?" Mithos asked.

"Is this about the Great Seed? It disappeared when you did."

"…In a sense, yes," Mithos said, though there was a strange look on his face. "Will you be here when I return?"

"I will always be here," Kratos said.

Mithos rushed forward, suddenly, and wrapped his arms around the mercenary. Kratos wasn't used to such displays, but he found himself returning the embrace.

"I will always be here," he said again, softer, meaning it.

Mithos left after that, and Kratos looked down at the stones in his hand. 

Noishe whined at him, and he reached down to pet him. He figured that the intuitive animal had the same sense of foreboding he felt.

He ate the rocks anyway, thinking of Mithos's desperation as he did so.

Yuan would not be pleased.


End file.
